


Trying to steal the day; maybe to be with you.

by Morisae



Series: It might as well be spring. [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Believe me this isnt a cliche fic about memory loss, Dementia, Dreaming, Final Haikyuu Quest, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Reincarnation, Soldiers, Time Travel, weird stuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morisae/pseuds/Morisae
Summary: "If there is a afterlife. I will take you to see the lanterns, and it won’t be here. Not in a place like this”“Is that a promise?” Oikawa chuckles, softly curling the corners of his eyes, until he sees the book in Iwaizumi's hand. Brown eyes quickly become curious."Yes"He takes it. A hand, albeit still lumpy, tucks the brown strands of hair behind his ear and plants a wild flower in it."Yes, Hajime"
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: It might as well be spring. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592761
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Trying to steal the day; maybe to be with you.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from This is the love- Ohashi Trio. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!

**974**

_Iwaizumi loves him._

Iwaizumi Hajime first met Oikawa Tooru- ten years old, when he was surrounded with books at the flower garden behind Aoba Johsai castle. With the life of a son that was born in a poor family, he never understood why other nobles had the opportunity to live in velvet but not their parents. His father was a loyal soldier to the king, not prominent but enough for him to inherit that position, with a small room in the palace behind and the privilege to be trained by the best warriors. His mother was a rural woman, poor and homely, but he had never been tired of watching the bright smile on her lips. 

"I'm Iwaizumi Hajime" Iwaizumi said, face turning sun-dried after practicing the entire afternoon. "I'm twelve years old. The king said that we could be friends”

Oikawa blinked. _The fifth prince of this dynasty,_ Iwaizumi rolled his eyes while thinking, wondering if Oikawa was as cold as his brothers, before he startled. Contrary to what he had thought, Oikawa grabbed his sleeve, pulling him to sit beside him in the middle of the herb beds.

"Is this what you learned inside the castle?"

Iwaizumi blinked in curiosity, winning a giggle from the other person.

“Yes" Oikawa answered, showing him a thick book with a leather cover and unreadable zigzag formulas.

"I learned about magic and medicine"

\---

_Trying to steal the day,_

_Maybe to be, with you_

_Do you still remember my name?_

_Do you feel the same?_

_Do the things I say make you laugh_

_Just a laugh from yesterday?_

**_\---This is the love, Ohashi Trio_ **

\---

They quickly became close within a few years. When Oikawa is twelve they seem to have become something inseparable, with legs and arms almost always in the same rhythm and eyes that know each other better than anyone.

"Iwa-chan, do you like this?" Oikawa asked as Iwaizumi was curiously sniffing the smell of the bottle of scent that Oikawa just made. The sweat on his forehead glittered in the sun."I like the smell of flowers" Iwaizumi closed the bottle, remembering that his mother once crushed rose petals and mixed them with water, forming a very strange fragrance. He tilted his head to the side to smell another scent on Oikawa's collar. "Like this, I guess."

"My scent?"

“Yeah, something like that" he pretended to look away, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yours"

Oikawa chuckled, a delicate tone hidden behind slender fingers.

“ _If then, can I become your bouquet?”_

\---

**2019**

In the small room in that quiet countryside, he dreams of the world little by little. 

They are not seamless images, like the beautiful scenery that a normal person would dreams of walking on, but only fragments of memories that are crumpled and yellowed at edges, like greeting cards pinned in on the wall and then dampened over the years. He dreams of the blue sky, about the people who come to work at five in the morning, about the Sendai rice fields and wet nights chasing fireflies- that is the perception of people with dementia about the world- he assumes every time he reads the notes he made. 

Sometimes, he dreams of the scent, the faces and everything that has passed away, like the way he used to walk alone through the streets, carrying the taste of a warm spring breeze. He dreams of volleyball, about the sound of his shoe on the vinyl floor and the smell of sea breeze, he dreams of his mother, a little but faded but the warmness and soothing remains. Dreaming of him, that he used to cry at his own graduation. 

Oikawa wrote that in his notebook. Add one more point to the list he knows about himself.

"I had that dream again yesterday"

Oikawa speaks, perhaps too abruptly and incomprehensibly, causing his mother to look up at him between the folded sheets. She doesn’t answer, but lets out a hum that means listening.

“There is a boy, I think so. Near a castle. He's very lonely” Oikawa narrows his eyes, trying to find some interpretation so that she doesn't think he's a ten-year-old kid, dreaming of princes in fairy tales “He's alone, I think”

Oikawa remembers the scene in his dream- the sky was clear, the sun left the rays of sunlight on the windows of a small bare house in the middle of the forest. Someone with brown hair peeked out to check the weather of that day, and hey, that person looked like----

"Lately, your memory has recovered quite well, isn't it?" his mom smiles, picking up the soft blankets to put them in the closet "You should prepare anyway. Your cousin is going to drop by this afternoon”

“I have a cousin?"

“Yeah” she answer, her face thoughtful as if she was thinking of something. Oikawa is a little happy that she doesn't show the disappointment when he forgets someone, like she did the first time- _with a little scrunch on her nose,_ and that expression broke him to the core "He studies in the city, and says he'll come here once a week from today”

“Okay" Oikawa mumbles, too busy hating his memory, sighing softly "I'll maybe remember his name"

"Oh, maybe" mother was silent for a moment before answering, and he doesn’t think he likes it "When you meet him, you can try"

"Yeah” 

" _Maybe_ ”

\--- 

**980**

_Iwaizumi loves him._

Iwaizumi never said that out, and he doesn’t feel the need, so he only dares to think so. He just pushes the door open, and Oikawa is there. And he just thinks that he loves him. It seems that Oikawa is too busy paying attention to astrology and the direction of monsoons on the fields this year; he won't notice anyway, but Iwaizumi still feels his cheeks heated discreetly in a way that only Oikawa can do.

Aoba Johsai Castle is located amidst the winding winds of the Sendai River, under the rule of the king and his eldest children. Iwaizumi often met them- strong warriors and expert at strategy, who always carried themselves aloof, dry. Those who would inherit the throne of the king, he heard his father talk about that when he sat beside him and took care of each blade, preparing for the next battle.

But Oikawa didn’t seem to be that type. Unlike his brothers- he was very _soft_ , sometimes a bit naughty and loved joking around, but Iwaizumi had never seen him negligent, never seen him not being serious about his passion and duties. He liked to embroider, even though he has never had a chance to try it. He enjoyed reading, as well as weaving and helping people. Most importantly, Oikawa endured the pain of being a weak child compared to others in his family but never threw his hand on and gave up, never lacked of the willingness to smile and say _no, it isn’t over yet_ . Iwaizumi watched him go on and on and on, books secretly hidden in his pockets on the horse saddle but never once been abandoned; his archery being broken from time to time but always be fixed in time; sweat falling from his forehead but _never, ever_ tired. 

"I am now a prince who has been rejected by his own family, do you know?" Oikawa asks. They are in his new home- a slum hut in the middle of an arid forest, only a bamboo bed and perhaps he would never have enough food to live if there weren’t groceries he received from the people nearby. 

“I do" he simply answers. Oikawa doesn't know that he can give up this title for him, betraying the king for him and the only reason he hasn't done it is because Oikawa doesn't want it. Oikawa is too kind, he knows that. If he is too benevolent, soon he will be heartbreaking.

Oikawa lets out a satisfied laugh, stroking the armor in his hand as he removed it from the shelf, preparing to go to battle. Oikawa doesn't know that when he leans sideways to whisper something (anything) into his ear with their chest pressed against each other it is sweeter than lemon slices soaked in sugar or secret touches on cheekbones at midnight.

“Do you want someone to be friends with? Other than me?” Iwaizumi asks. He knows if he didn’t ask that last part, Oikawa will tell him _I already have you, Iwa-chan_ , like hundreds of times he said that on quiet nights. Iwaizumi knows he still wants to be close to the warmth of human: the people who woke up at five in the morning to work in the vast fields of Sendai.

"I do" Oikawa answers softly. _Your voice is so sad_ , he wants to say, but then stops, giving way to another thought.

" _If there is a afterlife, I won't let you be so lonely"_

Oikawa smiles again, but this time, it's a real smile, with the corners of his eyes sweetly curved and his cheeks flushed. Iwaizumi is a little happy inside, but then his joy faltered as he looks outside, the stallion was tied to the pillar, waiting patiently. After putting on the armor, he lets out a sigh and walks out onto the porch. It is pitch dark, behind the thick canopy of the deep forest, the red lanterns glistening, drifting against the black sky adorned with stars. Lantern festival, the tradition of people when seeing off an army to the battle. 

"Go, Iwa-chan" Oikawa smiles, hooking him into the saddle of the bag of food and the tidier ingredients he has prepared. In the darkness of the winter night, he turns behind and suddenly sees the small yard with their home warm and strangely appealing, and he just doesn’t want to go anywhere else. His horse rubs his head against the warmth from Oikawa’s hand, sniffing his cheekbones as if in search of a scent Iwaizumi sure will remember forever. 

"You know...." he is confused, cuts himself of for a moment to find a way to describe it with his very poor vocabulary. "If there is a afterlife. I will take you to see the lanterns, and it won’t be here. Not in a place like this”

“Is that a promise?” Oikawa chuckles, softly curling the corners of his eyes, until he sees the book in Iwaizumi's hand. Brown eyes quickly become curious.

"Yes"

He takes it. A hand, albeit still lumpy, tucks the brown strands of hair behind his ear and plants a wild flower in it.

 _"Yes, Hajime_ "

People in the kingdom used to tell each other that tucking flowers into the lover’s hair means that it is a _confession_ , it is a _promise_.

\---

_And babe, this isn't right_

_But if you rather dry your eyes,_

_Then honestly, I'm fine,_

_With keeping my trust in you,_

_It's time, to walk in my shoes_

_It's true, I tried making it up to you_

_If I did all that I had to do,_

_Would you be here in my room?_

**_\---I don’t know you, The Marías_ **

\---

 **2019**

His name is _Iwaizumi Hajime._

 _Hajime,_ as in the _beginning of things,_ said his mother, and _Iwaizumi_ means something like _a rock plateau during spring break_. Strange characters and syllables, passing Oikawa's lips perfectly until they curl up and melt on the tip of their tongue just like cotton candy. The feeling of calling his name is familiar, and he suddenly wants to ask if the two of them had met so much before, feeling that it is a natural thing that doesn't need to be confirmed.

And so he does it. "Are you someone I forgot and need to remember?" Oikawa asks, the alertness and emotionless tone of his words make Iwaizumi perks up. Arranging his books on shelves, he shakes his head, voice low.

"No, I'm not. Don't bother yourself by taking it too seriously"

He wants to say it out loud, like his own thought against that strangely soft dream: _I want you to bother me._ But after all, Oikawa takes that as a permanent response, and doesn't think about it again.

The next time he returns, they seem to have become something inseparable, with legs and arms almost always in the same rhythm and eyes that know each other better than anyone. Iwaizumi somehow knows him better than anyone else, but remains the same, completely silent when he wonders if they were really close to each other before. He doesn't vow to give any answers other than a shake of his head, and Oikawa also learns to accept. He feels okay- he comforts himself by that- Iwaizumi and those weekends are all wonderful and he has no reason to complain.

"Your memory is recovering very well, isn't it?" He asks with a slight smile, while his face always shows a serious, steady look.

“Yeah, kind of” Oikawa crosses his arms while folding the blankets, stubbornly answering “Except that dream keeps coming back. I don't understand why---”

"Maybe it wants you to recall something?"

“I don't think I have memories of someone living in those middle ages, Iwa-chan” Oikawa sarcastically replies “Besides, the accident happened a long time ago. I have learned to accept that there are things that need to be forgotten and there are things I will find a way to recover them. Isn’t that better?”

Iwaizumi stays silent for a while before letting out a slight breath "Tell me about your dream"

Oikawa frowns, mumbles something like _you_ _stubborn asshole,_ and then puts a hand on his forehead.

“There was a boy," he begins. "In a hut. It seemed small but cozy, set in the middle of a dense forest where lights were seldom shone. Next to the forest was a large palace, with vast, vast fields close by”

"Surely that wasn’t your memory, right?" Iwaizumi plays with the curtain on the bedside, humming softly. _Continue_.

"I --- I can't remember his face" Oikawa says, confused, because that's what has been bothering him for so long. "But I think he wanted to talk to me. He always tried to say something, but I didn’t get it. It sounded like another language”

“Could it be because he's too _lonely_?"

Oikawa sighs. He places a hand on Iwaizumi’s cheek and pats on the warm skin "I already told you how pointless it would be to guess, because it's not my memory anyway."

“I'm sorry then" Iwaizumi sighs, "I just thought it could help you remember something."

"Which school do you study in Tokyo?"

"Why are you asking that?"

“I want to remember things about you, or can’t I?"

During the night, Oikawa can see red dots hanging out of the window. The lantern festival -he knows it- people here always burn them at midnight in the middle of the month, a custom long before he was born on Miyagi. It’s said that this is how the old people saw off the king's talented soldiers when the village was still small and poor, the mother said. There are also people who say that the red lanterns drop from the top of the mountain is a way for a general to inform his far away lover that he is still fine. In the book, attach an additional illustration of the night forest, all hidden in the dark, except for a piece of sky lit by lanterns.

"Well.." Iwaizumi mutters. Oikawa catches the laughter in his voice.

_"I remember everything about you"_

\---

**984**

"We’re going to die, Oikawa"

Oikawa lifts his head from the pot of still-boiling meat soup on the stove, giving a curious, understanding look towards his best friend who is quietly lying on the bed. Saying that the bed was not quite right, it was just a bamboo counter placed in the corner of the house, under the window, with a few more pillows and a blanket he himself woven. He was also worried that it would be a bit inconvenient for Hanamaki, but he had to accept it because he has nothing more than that.

“What's wrong, Makki?"

“The farm work has been tough these days, you know” Hanamaki sits up straight, his back leaning against the wall “This year, the cold came early. Rice fields and fruit trees are all done. Everyone in the kingdom is suffering like this, but I can’t understand why the king only paying attention to the main battle so far, far away”

"Father really wants to expand his realm, the only problem is him is just doing things the _wrong_ way" Oikawa shrugs. Hanamaki laughs at the sarcasm in his voice "If I were still in the palace, maybe everything would have been different”

“Well, I wonder why you can continue living like this” Hanamaki looks around Oikawa's small house, seemingly unable to cope with the cold wind anymore. “When Iwaizumi isn’t here and the food is gradually running out? ”

"He still sends letters”

"Yes, but you know, Oikawa----"

Hanamaki turns around, just barely to catch a smile on Oikawa’s mouth, always so soft and gentle but never enough to stand out, and if he didn’t pay attention, perhaps he still only thinks that Oikawa looks calm. And then he doesn’t know why, but maybe he _understood_ . Maybe they _trust_ each other, and that's all. Perhaps the reason Iwaizumi and Oikawa never have to be afraid to part ways, he sees, is probably because they're always ready to accept failure, accepting a new start with a smile and saying _no, it’s not over yet._

Oikawa smiles- this time more clearly- coming closer and giving him a glass jar, heavy between rough and scarred palms. But they’re still Hanamaki's hands, still the hands of his best friend that he could trust and be with, anywhere, anytime. _Give this to them for me,_ he listens to Oikawa, softly. _Tell them to use this and water the plants, maybe it will work._

 _Everything will be fine_ , he hears Hanamaki, unclear and just like the sound of the breeze, but Oikawa still catches it so easily and gently.

“Even if we shouldn't grow hope in a life like this” Oikawa says, “Whenever I think of him, I just wonder why not try to love? Why not try to live?”

\---

_“Tell me again what Lalande is” he begged Joana._

_“It’s like angel’s tears. Do you know what angel’s tears is? A kind of little narcissus, the slightest breeze will make it bend this way and that. Lalande is also the night sea, when no one has set eyes on the beach yet, when the sun hasn’t risen. Every time I say: Lalande, you should feel the cool, salty breeze, you should walk along the still-dark beach, slowly, naked”_

**_\---Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart_ **

\---

**2019**

That dream came again. In the dream, Oikawa saw a piece of green forest, lanterns at night and people smiled all gentle, happily because the fields were fertile again after a year of crop failure. He dreamed of it every night, and every day, it seems to change. There were days when in the kingdom it was winter. There were days when the king's army returned to their homeland to rest for a few days. Those were the most dazzling dreams, with flowers and grass growing in the yard of the shabby house, the bright, warm sun, the cherry blossoms blooming in clusters. 

It was a kingdom, he thought. They were saying something while gathering ripe produce, rice and apples. _This is so nice, it's all thanks to the prince. The monsoon in the valley has made it ways to the field for so long. What valley? Which prince is this?_ He wanted to ask, but the dream was like a one-way path and he had no way to respond his signal to the other end. He could only _close his eyes, feeling his heart race,_

" _Tooru_ "

_Then gently picked up the fragile sounds of this dream._

_It was another boy_ , he thought, with a tall, serious stature along with raven hair. Before Oikawa could see his face clearly, the weight of a hand on his shoulder pulled him back to reality.

"Oikawa?"

"Iwa-chan?" He asks dreamily, looking at Iwaizumi standing in front of him with his untucked jacket and backpack on his shoulder. It is already too late, Oikawa realizes it when he looks out the window and sees the stars twinkle. "Why are you back at this hour? Mom said that the train was late so you will stay in the city?”

"Yeah, but I still caught up to the nine o'clock train, fortunately" he laughs, rubbing his head. Oikawa grimaces and kicks him, not forgetting to say that he is a fool. _You’ve been working so hard this whole week._

"I don't want you to be lonely” he says as he packs his belongings, wraps his hands around a yellow cover book, brushing away the dust on it respectfully "I made a promise”

“With my mother?" Oikawa wrinkled his nose- he hates it when other considers himself as a child. Though it is true that without Iwaizumi, he is lonely, and he doesn't understand why. While Oikawa looks at him and answers, he suddenly wants to put his hand on his cheek, stroking that sad smile, feeling that it is a habit that was formed a long time ago.

"Yeah, maybe so" he nods. "But you know..."

“Yes?"

“By the end of the summer, I won't come back here anymore. So I want to return to Miyagi as much as possible”

**\---**

**(????)**

That night, when he entered the dream, he wondered why it felt _lighter_.

The boy was there- the one with black hair, ruffled and tangled, in the manner that Oikawa is so accustomed to- sat alone on a fallen tree, reading something intently. This time Oikawa found himself calmer- he didn’t know why, but the smell of thyme around makes him feel more relieved than ever. He didn't panic or startle at the same confusion as the first time— at this moment, the dream was like a comforting consolation that his mind gave him. And then Oikawa started to think, maybe this was how God makes up for the memory he lost; because he felt nothing more than the strange warmth and familiar scent, which seemed to have been etched into his mind for a long time.

Oikawa approached, his feet treading on the grass, making rustling noises. The young man raised his head- his face froze for a moment, but then he shook his head, quickly forming a smile. _Tooru_.

" _Hajime_ " Oikawa called. Strange characters and syllables, passing Oikawa's lips perfectly until they melt on the tip of their tongue like sugar in cotton candy. The feeling of calling his name was familiar, and he suddenly wanted to ask if the two of them had met so much before, feeling that it was a natural thing that didn't need to be confirmed.

"I’m dreaming again, right?" He asked. Iwaizumi in front of him wore a thicker face than the one in his memory, with scars on his cheeks and his eyebrows furrowed in fatigue, his hands hanging in heavy armor. But those eyes were still _his eyes_ \- _darker_ and _deeper_ than anything, _soothing_ and _calming_ him faster than any herb could do, clear but strong and yet _never, ever_ surrender.

“Probably," he said, waving his hand to bring him closer. Oikawa sat down next to him on the tree, feeling a little lightheaded. "Because you're not my Tooru"

“ _Your Tooru?"_

"Look at this." Iwaizumi smiled, directing his gaze down on the herb bags he had just taken out of a simple, white envelope, but how beautiful and familiar it was.

“Thyme" Oikawa said, touching the small leaf that sticks out of the top of the bag. Somehow, the feeling of being with Iwaizumi was so natural, making him almost forget that this was a dream and he wasn't Iwaizumi either.

"That's right, you're good” he said, pointing to the other bags "Parsley, sage and rosemary"

“What are they for?" Oikawa raised his eyebrows. "Cooking?"

“He said that these are herbs that symbolize love, something like that” he looked down at the letter, his eyes so gentle that for a moment, Oikawa felt like he's jealous of the person on the other end. 

“Parsley to eliminate bitter taste. Sage for strength and wisdom. Rosemary represents love and loyalty”

“And thyme?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow, filling in the missing gap.

_"Courage and happiness"_

Oikawa lifted his head when another voice hit his mind- he knew this voice, he knew it too well to be surprised. The other walked towards him, his brown hair fluttering, delicate features reflected his softness and confidence, curled up in a plain white shirt and a wine-red cape. When he smiled at Iwaizumi, it was so natural, so coincidental, as if there was some stars always, always watching them and somewhere out there, two pieces were matched, and that’s the reason why they're here, in front of his eyes.

"I think you know this” the other said, handing him a branch of thyme. _Courage and happiness. "_ You know it because someone taught you, do you remember that person?"

"I do n---"

" _You will_ " the other smiled. _Prince_ , he thought. _More beautiful than anything._ “Because my memories never really go anywhere. And such beautiful things cannot be seen with the mundane eyes. You need to remember that person”

A hand, albeit rough, still tender, planted a wild flower behind his ear.

And Oikawa suddenly understood it all.

\---

**2019**

Iwaizumi gets up earlier than the other days to pack his things, preparing to go back to Tokyo. Summer vacation is over, and because of that, the time when he would be so busy will come soon. He sighs, trying to enjoy his last day at Miyagi even if he knows he woule finally can’t.

While cleaning the bookcase, his gaze spots on the cover of the yellow book, quietly resting on the innermost part of the bookshelf. The book that he gave Oikawa before the accident that took away all the opportunities for the two of them to be together again, before he had a chance to read it. A book about herbs. He also finds some articles about Oikawa's accident months ago, deciding to let it go by before he thinks too much about it on the train home.

He drops them in the trash, back to the bedroom to wake Oikawa up for breakfast.

“Oikawa?"

A humming perks up. 

Oikawa grabs his hand as he slowly opens his eyes, and no---- there's something wrong, he feels. The hand he held immediately feels like burning. When they touch each other that morning it is like the clash of two stars, strong but far away, making him wonder if he has just imagined it out. 

“Wake up, otherwise you'll miss breakfast ---"

"Hajime?"

The name makes him blink twice. In his mind, he hears someone's voice, familiar but not at the same time. _Tell him._

“This sounds silly, but" Oikawa slowly rubs his eyes. "Do you have anything you haven't told me yet?"

_Tell him,_ his mind echoes.

_Tell him about his first meeting after the accident, how you felt when you called Oikawa and heard your name rolled from his lips like something new had never been called._

_Tell him about the time when he asked you if you was someone he forgot and needed to remember and how hard you had to grit your teeth so that you wouldn't say yes, yes, so you wouldn't go ahead and hug him tightly, so you wouldn't cry when you thought he had forgotten you too._

_Tell him about that time when Oikawa was lying in the dark and saying that he has learned to accept that there are things that need to be forgotten and that there are things he will find a way to recover, and you wanted to ask even about me? About what we had together? About all these high school years? burning and lingering in your throat like the taste of medicine._

_Tell him about the day you ran across the three train stations to catch the latest train and then received a broken expression on Oikawa's face when you said you won't return to Miyagi again._

_Tell him about whenever Oikawa's eyes light up when he looked at the book, you refrained from hoping too much._

_Tell him about how you decided you would forget everything when he had an accident, but you couldn't._

_Tell him about the promise when you first went to the city, that you would never leave him lonely._

_Tell him about hot cheeks and kisses in the middle of the night. Tell him about the flower on his hair, even though it was just a wildflower, it still has been preserved so much._

_Tell him about parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme._

_Tell him. Before the summer ended, before you won’t return to Miyagi._

_Tell him, that this time you will not break the promise,_

_“If there is a afterlife, I won't let you be so lonely"_

“I don't want the summer to end" Iwaizumi says, burst into crying in Oikawa's embrace. He doesn’t dream anymore, legs exhausted, his hand gently stroking along Iwaizumi's spine as he feels their tears mingling together in a future without nostalgia, nor pain.

  
\---

_Still don't know what I have to say,_

_You're everything I have to need,_

_You make me want to be with you_

_Your eyes have me in a dream,_

**_\---This is the love, Ohashi Trio_ **

\---

**990**

Iwaizumi takes small, step-by-step steps, being careful not to wake the person sleeping on the bed. The stallion was tied tightly outside the pillar, listening to the people celebrating the king's victory in the fields and gardens laden with fruit. Seems to be a great harvest for Aoba Johsai.

"Tooru?" He calls softly. The person on the bed slowly stirs, turning his beautiful brown eyes toward him.

“You’re already back?”

At the end of the bed were a pile of unburnt ashes, bags of herbs and medicine were scattered around it as if Oikawa had just deployed some magic he learned.

"You didn't do anything weird while I was away, right?"

“No" Oikawa replies, smiling softly while pulling him down to the side, falling asleep “It's just a little of _traveling_ "

\---

_This is the love I need_

_This is the love, keeping me real_

_This is the love that I know,_

_It had to be you,_

**_\---This is the love, Ohashi Trio_ **

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to find me i'm a potato and i would love to talk about haikyuu!! 
> 
> @/appleyogurt_ (IG drawing account)  
> @/aoimm (Tumblr)


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